


My Church Offers No Absolution

by FiliTheLionKing (IAmYourWatson)



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Banishment, Blood, Blood Drinking, Character Turned Into Vampire, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Past Abuse, Vampires, Verbal Abuse, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmYourWatson/pseuds/FiliTheLionKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders Johnson, despite being a god, doesn't believe in prayer all that much. His prayers have never been answered, so why should he put so much faith in them? But he does, and he always regrets it. After all, hope gives him nothing but pain. </p><p>Meetings by the cliffs with a vampire named Mitchell turn into something of a weekly ritual. And when everything goes wrong, his vampire is there to offer a way out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Church Offers No Absolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_butterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_butterfly/gifts).



> Written while I'm sick as a dog. Unbeta'd, so if you could point out my mistakes I'd be grateful! As always, comments and critiques make my day! I'm gonna go crawl back into bed now and cough a lot....

For a man who was also a god, Anders had no religion. He didn't believe in any all powerful god, although he knew simply by being a god that there had to be some kind of afterlife. After all, where else would the gods that he and his peers represented live and rule? So yes, there may be something after, but he didn't pray or worship any deity. If he thought about it really hard, the closest things to a god he had were sex, alcohol, and the stupid, foolish hope that he could be loved. He offered himself up to these unseen gods as a sacrifice, hoping that maybe his prayers of love and acceptance would be answered. But they never were, which was how he ended up here. 

He'd been coming to the cliffs by the sea for a long time. When life became too much, he'd jump in his car and drive and drive until he ended up here, just far enough off the beaten path that he'd be left alone, unless some hiker passed him by. No one ever did. He wasn't sure what this place was called, only that it had a good view of the sea at sunset and the sound of the waves crashing on the sharp rocks below was a soothing lullaby to his torn heart. Some days he'd come by and still see the cigarette butts from when he was last there still on the ground. He thought of it as his spot, until a few visits ago. Then he'd started getting a visitor, a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes, who only ever came out after the sun sank below the ocean's waves. 

At first, Anders had thought he was just a hiker. Then, when the man stopped by him, those dark eyes seeing far too much, he thought maybe this was another lost soul like his own. Someone wanting the solace of being alone by choice, instead of by decree. That first time, they simply looked at each other for a while before Anders offered the man a cigarette. The taller man had smiled, accepted, and offered a name: Mitchell. In return, the blonde gave his own. They leaned against the blonde's car and let the smoke from their death sticks mingle in the light evening breeze as the sea turned from blue to black. Soon, when it was verging on too dark for Anders to be out there much longer, Mitchell stood upright again and thanked Anders for the company, and walked off into the night. Anders had brushed it off as a one-time thing, not bothering to wonder how the other man would get home. But then the next time he was there, so was Mitchell. 

They fell into easy conversation from then on, sharing nothing of great importance, then suddenly sharing everything. They'd first met when Helen had been killed. When they began talking about deeper things, it was the day before Gaia showed up on Anders' doorstep, Idunn breathing words through her lips and making fools of them both. A few days later, when they met again, Anders revealed that he was a god. Mitchell already seemed to know that gods existed. The taller man revealed he was a vampire. Anders already knew this. He was no fool; he'd seen the world and all the dark little things in it, as much as a mortal could. He'd run across his fair share of vampires, all of them looking to take the blonde to bed and feast on him. He was too smart for that. Mitchell laughed when he was told this, but just smiled as if he'd expected nothing less. An easy camaraderie was built as Anders' world was torn down. 

It became something of a ritual for them to meet on that small cliff, a world hung on the edge of a thread, suspended in time. They both felt something growing, a pressure on the string, but neither acknowledged it. They were both too fragile to lean on the other. Mitchell's breath spoke of being King of the Vampires, how he was in New Zealand on vampire business for an extended stay, but someday he'd have to return to Bristol. Anders lived vicariously through these accounts, wishing he'd been born anywhere but Norsewood, as anyone but who he was. Mitchell could sense his human companion falling apart. Once, this would have made him an excellent victim, but as he'd grown older, Mitchell had become smarter, and Anders would be wasted as a single meal. No, he'd make a better friend (or perhaps something more) than dinner. Anders never questioned why the vampire didn't try to eat him. He figured he must make a shitty meal to not even interest the vampire's fangs. It fit his own worldview well enough; no one wanted him, why should Mitchell?

It all came to a head when he almost died. Anders rarely prayed, and never to one single god. But as his world came apart, with Gaia and Axl falling away from each other, and the youngest Johnson blaming it on Anders, as if Gaia had nothing to do with it, instead of everything...Anders began to break. As his walls fell down, prayers flew up. Hopes, once desperately guarded, nursed, tended to in the hopes that one day they would flourish into reality, died and wilted in the ground. He had once hoped that he'd be accepted back into the family with open arms. That the past would be forgiven, instead of held against him. That maybe he'd be loved by the people who were supposed to love him without strings attached. His hopes of an easy smile with Mike, with his brothers and grandfather, were dashed against the rocks. All he ever was to them was the scapegoat, the reason for all their problems, real or imagined, the person to get them out of trouble and never be thanked for it. His existence was a thankless one, filled with lies told for the benefit of others, empty of bedfellows because he could find no one stupid enough to lie with him. He was robbed bit by bit of his self-esteem, until he was a hollow shell, rather than a man hiding in his armor, as he once was. And so he prayed. 

The sun had set but the sky was still light enough to see easily by as Anders sat on the hood of his car. His tie was off, lying on the backseat of his car. Cigarette smoke wafted through the air, settling around his head like a cloud. He felt rather than heard the vampire approaching from behind him and to the left. He'd once asked where the vampire came from, and Mitchell had just smiled mysteriously. A few times later, the vampire had explained that he was camped out a mile away, wanting to enjoy the freedom and clean air of the countryside while he was out here. It reminded him of his childhood, he'd said, and then they'd spoken no more about it. The car shifted a little as Mitchell sat on the hood, taking a cigarette from the almost empty pack and lighting the end. They were quiet for a while, with the only noises breaking the silence being the surf and their smoke-laden breaths. Mitchell knew better than to push Anders when he was like this. So he waited with the infinite patience of the dead. 

"....Does it hurt?" 

"....Does what hurt?" Mitchell asked quietly; Anders' voice was soft and rough, as if he'd been shouting or crying. His eyes, the vampire noticed, were red-rimmed, so the second option was more likely. He dreaded the answer, knowing how rough things had been for his companion lately. 

"Dying. Does it hurt?" 

"...Depends on how you die, I guess." A deep draw on his cigarette filled a heavy silence for a moment. "It hurt when I died, but I was dying a vampire's death, which is never easy. I hardly remember it now." It was more information than he usually offered up about his turning, but Anders was special. He was the only one the Vampire King could open up to without fear. 

"Mmmm." Anders grew quiet again, finishing his death stick and tossing it to the ground. The sea breeze tousled his blonde hair, stinging already sore eyes. Mitchell found himself staring at the blonde's lips, absently taking a final draw of his cigarette and tossing it down as well. 

"...I have nothing left..." The smaller man said softly, so softly that it would have been lost to the sea if it wasn't for Mitchell's enhanced hearing. He didn't respond; Mitchell just kept watching Anders' lips and waiting for the human to continue. After a few moments, Anders spoke again. 

"When I was little, our father left. Then our mother. Then Mike. That's all anyone in this family ever seems to do, just leave and dump the responsibility on me. I wouldn't mind so much if they didn't throw it back in my face all the time. I had to raise two brothers barely younger than myself before I was even an adult. No help, nothing. I barely kept us alive. I did things, things I'm not proud of, to keep them fed, a roof above them, clothes, little trips to the mall, a pet, school trips. If Ty or Axl wanted it, I did whatever I had to so they could get it. Then Mike came back. Told me I'd messed them up. What was I supposed to do? I had to pretend that he, the legal guardian, wasn't gone all the time, so they wouldn't be taken from us, so we wouldn't have to live in foster homes. It was my fault, though. Always is. I mess everything up. Tried to help the fucking bastard too, show him that Val wasn't with him out of love. Good lot of help  _that_  was. Got me kicked out." A deep breath, shaky and unstable.

"I was so close to being homeless those first few years, you know? I mean, I fought hard, managed to keep a roof over my head, but somehow it was harder when it was just me. But I made it, I survived. Got a good job, a good firm, I'm set for life now. I don't have to be afraid anymore, right? And then they needed me to come home, Mitchell. Axl was turning 21, last god in the family, maybe we could be together again, a family. But I was wrong. I'm always wrong, Mitch. Always." More silence. "...They kicked me out again, John. They threw me out. I'm banished, by Odin's decree. I have no family now. I've got...I've got  _nothing_  now. I'm not stupid, I know I had nothing before. But that's the thing about hope, I guess. It blinds you to everything else. I thought maybe, just maybe, they'd believe me. It wasn't  _my_ fault, wasn't me, it wasn't me. Bragi and Idunn, they're the ones at fault, we had no choice, couldn't stop it, and they said it was me! As if  _I_  was a rapist! I've never done such a horrible thing in my life! I'm not perfect but I'm not a rapist!"

He scratched at his arms, as if something was crawling up them, then stopped abruptly, looking down. Mitchell could all but taste Anders losing it, falling to the bottom of the pit, a place that was hard to crawl out of (he knew all too well from experience what that was like). The vampire gently took Anders' hands from his arms and held them, keeping them from moving. The blonde hardly noticed, his gaze moving to the sea.  _  
_

"'I, Odin, hereby banish you from the Johnson family and take away your powers as Bragi's vessel. No longer will his soul reside in your body. You are an unworthy, foul thing who should have stayed in whatever hole you crawled out of. No longer are you allowed to be in the presence of those you once had the privilege of calling brother. No god or goddess shall speak to you, and if you dare to touch them, your hands will burn as if by fire. No aid shall come to you from them, and not even Hel will take your wretched soul. Leave our sight and never come back. You have no family. You are disowned.'" A breath. "Axl said that. I could tell it wasn't just Odin, it was Axl. And the thing is, no one stopped him. No one disagreed with him. I help them, keep them out of trouble, do anything they ask, and this is what I get. I mean, I knew we'd never be a perfect family, but this? I do everything but kill for them...I'd have killed for them, if they'd asked me to. They must've known that..." Another breath, slower. "...So now I'm alone. Sad, isn't it?" A bitter laugh. "I wonder why you're even still here, mate. It's not like I'm worth anything now."

The vampire stood, tugging Anders off the hood of the car. He drew the smaller man into his cold arms, bending his head so their foreheads touched. They'd been dancing around this for weeks, it was only a matter of time before one of them broke. And now that he could taste the despair rolling off the mortal in waves, Mitchell knew he should have broken it sooner. This man was adrift, and the vampire wanted nothing more than to anchor him, to be his safe harbor. Anders was quiet, disbelief in his wide blue eyes as he was held so gently, like he was something worth protecting. He'd been wanting Mitchell for weeks, knew they were coming to this, but with all that was happening with his so-called family, he'd barely had time to analyze it. Mitchell just snuck up on him, but he wasn't afraid. What does a lost man have to be afraid of?

"I can't offer you absolution, Anders. I'm nowhere near holy enough to pretend I can save your soul. But I can give you something else, something better: I can give you a new life. Leave this one behind, Anders. They aren't worth it, they never were. Come with me, come to England. I will be your family, Anders. I will give you a new home, a new world to call your own. Come meet my brothers and sisters, learn to call them yours, let them be your siblings. I can't offer you salvation, but I can give you sin, sin enough to wipe out all thoughts of this ruined life of yours. Become something more with me, sweet Anders, let your spirit shine through, nurtured and loved by those who can understand you. Never again will you be alone, Anders. Never will you wake up to an empty bed and an empty heart. Let me show you my world, let me soothe your wounds with blood and sex. Say you'll come with me, a chroi. Say you'll be mine..." 

Anders' eyes were wide as words dripped like sweet honey from the vampire's lips. Mitchell spoke in earnest, he could tell; Anders had learned to read people, even before Bragi's spirit had entered and left him. The vampire spoke the truth, he truly wanted Anders, as more than friends, or as a fuck, or as a meal. He hadn't felt wanted his entire life, and this feelings was new and dear to the blonde. He closed his eyes as Mitchell pressed their foreheads together, letting Anders take his time to decide. Absolution, salvation...all of them were beyond him, and he found that for the first time, he didn't care. Here, in Mitchell's arms, was all he'd ever need. The answer to his prayers had come in the form a tall, dark man who'd strode out of the wilderness one fateful day. So what if he left all that he knew behind? They'd abandoned him, so why should he wait around for them? Yes, he'd leave. Leave this all behind. Here, there was nothing. With Mitchell, he could find everything. 

"Yes..." His voice whispered softly, tobacco-tainted breath spilling over the taller man's lips. 

"...You know what I'm asking of you, Anders? You know what I'm asking you to become? Once this happens, there's no turning back. No second guessing..." He felt rather than saw the smile on Anders' lips.

"Yes, I know. And my answer remains the same." Anders leaned back just enough so that their eyes could meet. "Make me yours, Mitchell. Show me your world. I'm a child of the sunset, make me a disciple of the night. I trust you, I want you, take me back with you. I don't fear death, not with you waiting for me on the other side. It's not a hard choice, really: who would want to spend one miserable lifetime waiting for nothing when you could have an eternity of possibilities?" A small, soft laugh left him. "I want this, Mitchell. I want this with you." And he stepped back, smirking. "Shall we go back to your place? It'll be far more comfortable there."

Mitchell knew he didn't need to answer with words. He simply stepped forwards again, wrapping Anders up in his arms. The vampire leaned down to kiss him passionately, their first kiss a whirlwind of lips and teeth, a drop of blood spilled between them, a bright taste on Mitchell's lips. He growled and pushed Anders against the car, memorizing his taste with his tongue. When Anders was well and truly breathless, the vampire let go, a smirk plastered on his face as he made his way back to his camp, knowing that Anders was following him in the bright moonlight. A full moon hung above them, lighting the beautiful New Zealand landscape, but Anders only had eyes for his vampire. When they reached the large tent, they stepped inside, and fell upon each other. 

Anders learned the pain of fangs that night. They made love as Mitchell drained him before feeding the weakened Anders his blood. Soft lips and softer skin soothed the dying human's pain, the vampire guiding him through death with patience and sympathy. He remembered all too well what awaited Anders, so he warned him as he stroked sweaty blonde hair, the life fading from Anders' bright blue eyes. The sun rose and set again as Mitchell waited, Anders' cold body held in his grip. Not once did he leave his companion's side, even as the warm sun beamed down at him through the tent's fabric. Soon, though, it was night again, and it was time for Anders to rise once again. He did so with a scream; even though he was prepared, his encounter with the afterlife was frightening. His lover was there to soothe him and kiss him better, and Anders was soon marveling at his new eyesight, his new fangs, his new senses. He laughed and laughed, shouting "I'm free!" to the sky, and all Mitchell could do was laugh with him before pushing him back down onto the ground to make love to him yet again. Two days later, they were on a plane to Bristol and a new life. 

None of the Johnsons ever found out what happened to Anders. Axl thought he ran away and expected them to go after him. Ty believed Anders simply left and decided against leaving any word; after all, they  _had_  just kicked him out of the family. Mike decided to live in permanent denial, as if he'd never had a brother, even as his hunting skills sensed Anders leaving the country. Only Olaf ever truly wondered, and he smelled the dead in Anders' apartment. Was that Hel, coming to take his grandson's soul after he'd killed himself? No, there would have been a body. That left only one other option: vampires. Olaf shuddered and went back to his cannabis. Denial sounded good right about now. 

Some years later, they would begin to regret their actions. But by then, it was too late. And even if they had found Anders, he would have simply flipped them the bird and walked away laughing. He was a vampire now, the Prince of Vampires to be exact, and he already had a family.

And Mitchell would never let go of his prize. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Take Me To Church" by Hozier.


End file.
